


one choice

by sunshinefleur



Series: unnecessarily angsty drabbles [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, I had thoughts, Medication, Mentions of medication, References to Depression, References to anxiety, maybe? but better safe than sorry, sorry if this is repetitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinefleur/pseuds/sunshinefleur
Summary: why is donghyuck so afraid of being happy?
Series: unnecessarily angsty drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057484
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	one choice

**Author's Note:**

> read the tags loves, this is pretty heavy stuff so keep yourselves safe <3 let me know if there's anything else i need to tag as well!

donghyuck’s angry. absolutely seething with rage. god, this was so unfair. out of all people, why him? why did it have to be him, the bubbly, bright one of the group? depression? really? what’s  _ wrong  _ with him?

was he really just living a lie this whole time? who’s to say he’s actually been himself this whole time?  _ certainly not me _ , donghyuck chuckles bitterly. there’s a certain complacency in his sadness, the knowledge that this is how it’s always been. the fear comes when he realizes this isn’t how it always has to be. 

“meds are an option,” the psychiatrist had chirped. “but it’s up to you.” how the  _ hell  _ was donghyuck supposed to make that decision? sure, maybe he’d be able to function like a normal fucking human being, but what would he have to give up? himself? he didn’t know how he’d change, or if he would, and what that change would look like, and that’s what scared him most. not the idea of putting medicine into his body regularly for the first time, but  _ himself.  _ and god, if that wasn’t fucking pathetic. he’s sick. he should want to get better. but he  _ doesn’t.  _ he’s too used to the sadness creeping its way into his mind in the same way tendrils of fog curl around the tree trunks in the forest nearby. he’s too used to the anxiety suddenly taking control of his body, the same way a ship capsizes when faced with a wave too big to conquer. he doesn’t know any different. he didn’t know it wasn’t normal.

but here he is, sitting, agonizing over what to do. he has a final project due soon that he just can’t seem to finish, and christmas gifts for his friends waiting to be completed and sent on their way. he wants to do it all, he wants it so bad. he  _ should  _ be able to do it. it’s not fair. he knows that the fact this is even happening means his decision should be clear, but it isn’t. what if he doesn’t recognize himself afterwards? he’s seen things go wrong for so many of his friends, and he can only hope he doesn’t end up like them. isn’t he tired of feeling sad? doesn’t he want better? doesn’t he  _ deserve  _ better?

and maybe that’s where the question lies. does he feel like he deserves better? because, most of the time, he’d say the answer’s no. he doesn’t feel like he’s done enough to earn feeling better, because look at him. he’s failing most of his classes, his friendships are falling apart, and he can’t even make one goddamn decision. why is he so fucking afraid of feeling happy? true, no strings attached, happiness? he knows that if it were one of his friends going through this instead, he’d feel frustrated with them. because the decision looks easy, right? take the pills, be happy, function like a normal member of society. if anything, this is only driving him  _ further _ into the hole he’s created for himself. 

the anger takes over again. he wants nothing more than to smash everything in sight. fuck the dried flowers on his dresser, fuck the sugar crystal ornament he made in high school, fuck the candle his teammate gave him as a gift. it all reminds him too much of how things used to be. and in a way, that’s a stupid thought. nothing’s changed. he hasn’t changed. he just knows more now. but god, he wishes he didn’t know. he wishes he didn’t fucking know what’s wrong with him, because that was almost easier than whatever he’s trying to do now. this should be so much easier. but it isn’t. 


End file.
